


turn around, turnabout

by soonhan



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: (just a little soonhan bc i can't help myself), Alternate Universe - Jeonghan doesn't have a driver's license, Alternate Universe - Lawyers, Childhood Friends, Friends to Rivals to Friends to Lovers, M/M, art student jeonghan for a second, attempts at matchmaking, inspired by Ace Attorney
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:22:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24089593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soonhan/pseuds/soonhan
Summary: He thought about the second most important thing Soonyoung had told him to remember: to smile, no matter how bad it got. And especially when it was bad.So he smiled.
Relationships: Boo Seungkwan/Yoon Jeonghan
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21
Collections: Seventeen Rare Pair Fest: Round 1





	turn around, turnabout

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [SVTRarePairFest](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/SVTRarePairFest) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> Ace Attorney-style rival lawyers
> 
> their mutual friends are tired of their very palpable UST so they try playing matchmaker. this may or may not work
> 
> could be either rivals-to-lovers or rivals-to-friends-to-lovers

Jeonghan finished rolling his left sleeve above his elbow, adjusted his watch and checked it, then grabbed his bike helmet and stepped outside his apartment. His roommate was definitely still asleep, being that it was 7 in the morning, but he had class, and his roommate didn’t.

The early morning sky was full of clouds, but the air was warm, and it caressed his cheeks as he flew down the hill towards campus. Spring was melting into summer, meaning the semester was nearly over, and Jeonghan was hardly halfway through his final projects. But in the sweet morning, warm and new, his mind couldn’t seem to feel any worry.

The sky was a soft lavender, dotted with clouds that drifted by lazily, and the whole world felt like it was at a standstill. It was peaceful, and if Jeonghan closed his eyes for a moment, he almost felt like he was flying.

He pulled into the campus lot faster than what seemed to be normal, locking his bike up before taking long strides across the lawn to the art building.

It felt shameful to be inside on such a nice day, and he considered asking his professor to take an easel outside but it was only a two hour class in any case. He watched the sun rise in the sky through the window instead.

And before he knew it, class was over. As he cleaned up supplies and packed his bag, he heard a tapping at the window— he didn’t even have to look to know what it was.

He zipped up his bag and met Soonyoung’s eyes through the glass, chuckling to himself at the eager wave he got once Soonyoung had his attention. He motioned for him to wait, and left the classroom to head outside.

“Good morning!” he called cheerily, waving at Soonyoung where he was still waiting by the window. “How was class?”

Soonyoung bounded over, containing too much energy for any time before noon. He bumped shoulders with Jeonghan and gave him a smile that showed nearly all his teeth and squished his cheeks into his eyes.

“Invigorating, like always. We had another mock trial today!” He was bubbling over with excitement. It always inspired Jeonghan how passionate he was about his field, and he couldn’t count the amount of times he’d listened to Soonyoung go on about what he’d learned in his law class that day. They would often joke that Jeonghan could probably graduate with a minor in law at this point.

“Why don’t you tell me all about it,” Jeonghan said, looping his arm around Soonyoung’s shoulders. He started to walk towards the cafeteria. “Over lunch.”

“Have you seen the news today?” Soonyoung asked after a lull of silence, flipping idly through his law books. Jeonghan knew he wasn’t reading. He also knew Soonyoung had memorized the passages within already. He shook his head.

“No. Was I supposed to?” Soonyoung looked up from the pages, his eyes a little tired, though his curiosity masked it fairly well. He stopped pretending to study and reached into his bag to pull out a newspaper, sliding it across the table to Jeonghan. He picked it up, rubbing his thumbs over the soft surface of it, and his eyes darted to the front page photo.

“Ah,” he said simply. His mind felt like television static, his heart leapt into his throat, and after some time he realized Soonyoung had been speaking and he hadn’t been listening. He couldn’t seem to focus on anything but the paper eyes staring back at him; eyes he hadn’t seen in years.

“What?” he asked, finally looking away from the newspaper. “Sorry, I didn’t catch that.”

Soonyoung huffed, and leaned across the table, flattening the paper so he could hold Jeonghan’s attention properly.

“I said it looks like Sungsoo has a new demon.” His mouth curled down in distaste, his eyes running over the headline. “I can’t say I wouldn’t be wary of facing off against him in court. He’s already got quite a reputation.”

A demon. That’s what the headline called him. That’s not how Jeonghan knew him. This was the mirror opposite of who he used to know, and the photo of him should have been unrecognizable, if Jeonghan didn’t know any better.

He felt a deep sadness bury its roots in his heart. All thoughts about his final projects felt insignificant now.

“I’m switching my major,” he stated suddenly, firmly. Soonyoung’s eyes went wide, derailing all thoughts that had been forming on his lips. The attempt of a question slipped passed. He tried again.

“What did you say?”

Jeonghan stared down at the newspaper again. His hand curled into a fist, and then he turned his eyes to Soonyoung again. There was a fire in them, bright, wild.

“I’m going to become a lawyer.”

Jeonghan missed making art. He missed it during his first semester as a law student, he missed it during his exams and crunch time, he missed it on his graduation day. But now, as Soonyoung was pinning his newly minted defense badge to his lapel and smoothing his jacket down, he felt no regret in his decision.

There was a proud, fond look on his face, and he looked on the brink of tears. Jeonghan smiled proudly back. He knew he would start crying if Soonyoung did, but somehow, Soonyoung held it together.

“How do you feel on your first day?” he asked, stepping back to take in the sight of Jeonghan in full. It felt weird to be dressed up in a suit, so far-removed from the future he had seen before changing career paths. He had imagined himself in artist smocks and comfortable pants every day, not a tie and slacks.

“I don’t know how ready I am, but I’m glad I never have to take another exam.” Soonyoung laughed, tossing his head back.

“Yes, but there’s plenty more studying you’ll have to do.” They moved to the couch, and Soonyoung tapped the case file on the coffee table.

Having Soonyoung as his mentor felt a little strange, since he was a year younger than him, but he couldn’t have asked for a better one. Soonyoung’s passion for the truth was infectious, and he had been one of the best students at the university. To Jeonghan, it felt only natural. And to Soonyoung, it was an honour. 

Plus the study notes he got from him certainly didn’t hurt.

“It might seem a bit intimidating, taking a murder case as your first trial, but I felt the same way too. And if I can do it, you can, after all I taught you everything I know.” He regarded Jeonghan with a grin, flipping open the file. Jeonghan couldn’t lie, he was a bit intimidated.

He’d been there, the day of Soonyoung’s first trial. The look in his eyes afterwards was complex— triumphant and grieving, and Jeonghan wished he’d been able to join him behind the defense bench rather than watching uselessly from the gallery. He didn’t speak to him about it, really, but Jeonghan knew the reality of dealing with an actual murderer had affected him. Things were a lot different when you went from paper to practice.

At least for Jeonghan’s first trial, he could have Soonyoung by his side.

“Just remember,” Soonyoung said, handing him the victim’s information. “The most important thing is to believe in your client, no matter what.”

They stayed up late that night, going over the file again and again, until Jeonghan could recite it from memory. They discussed the evidence they had accrued and made their case, and Jeonghan was thrown back to their school days- staying up late, making jjajangmyeon well past midnight, going back and forth quizzing each other on obscure laws that would be on the exam but they’d probably never have to deal with in real life.

Morning came, and went, and then was long gone. Soonyoung plucked confetti from his hair, laughing and congratulating him, telling him he was bringing him out to dinner to celebrate, and the trial was over- grit teeth and fear and doubt through it all, but it was over and he’d won. He thought about the second most important thing Soonyoung had told him to remember: to smile, no matter how bad it got. And especially when it was bad.

So he smiled.

“Jeonghan, come here.”

It sounded urgent, so Jeonghan figured watering Soonyoung’s palm lily could wait. Horangi seemed to droop a little in disappointment.

Soonyoung was leaning against his desk in the office, his ankles crossed and brow furrowed. His one palm was flattened against the worn polished wood, and his other hand was clutching his phone. He didn’t look up at Jeonghan when he entered.

He took a second to take in his appearance: his hair, which was normally carefully slicked back, was slightly mussed and messier; his jacket was slung over his chair and his shirt was undone two buttons from the top; his tie loose; and his sleeves rolled haphazardly to his elbows. When Soonyoung finally looked up, Jeonghan pretended he hadn’t been examining him. He let out a little cough, crossed his arms and nodded his head.

“What’s up?” Casual. Cool. Calm.

Soonyoung stopped leaning and motioned for him to come closer. “There’s some new cases to consider.”

There was something about his face that made Jeonghan uneasy, which could only mean a few things. The cases could be difficult, or dark, or the client was offering meagre pay when they were starting to struggle with their bills, or…

He stood beside Soonyoung, taking in the scent of his cologne and their proximity, and then Soonyoung turned his phone to him. Their fingers brushed when he took it.

Or…

That mouth, set in a hard, firm line. Those shoulders, militant and strict, held back with purpose. And those eyes- eyes he used to see such warmth in, that held stars and dreams-, now grey and cold. They didn’t look sad, but Jeonghan could feel an immense sadness behind them.

“We’re taking it,” he said.

Soonyoung didn’t argue. 

The day of the trial loomed.

More than once, Soonyoung would find Jeonghan pacing in the office, his eyes distant and peering out the window through the plastic blinds. Or holding a leaf on Horangi, delicately rubbing it between his thumb and forefinger. Then there were days he’d come into the office to Jeonghan asleep on top of a mess of case files, evidence laid out haphazardly across the floor in some system that must have made sense to Jeonghan, or at least the Jeonghan that was awake at 5 in the morning.

And then the day came.

Soonyoung was putting their case together neatly in his briefcase, and Jeonghan came strolling into the office with his suit pressed, his hair tied back in a punishing tail, and his badge gleamed brilliantly on his breast.

Something swelled in Soonyoung’s chest: pride, awe, fear. Maybe all of them, and maybe something more. He straightened up at the sight of him, closing the briefcase and fastening the latches. Jeonghan strode over and grabbed it by the handle.

“Let’s go.”

The air felt different as they approached the courthouse. Jeonghan’s hand gripped the briefcase’s handle tighter, and Soonyoung could feel the tension emanating from him. He tried to figure out what to say to him, some way to ease his nerves, but he knew the importance of this day, and the significance of who would be there waiting for them.

As they stopped before the stately carved doors, Soonyoung reached out and took his hand, squeezing it once. Jeonghan looked over at him, his mouth grim, but his eyes softened.

“Whatever happens—” Soonyoung started. He shook his head and tried again. With a slow, even breath, he looked Jeonghan in the eye. “Even if you’re bitten by a tiger, you’ll live as long as you’re prepared.”

Jeonghan laughed at the proverb, which wasn’t exactly Soonyoung’s intention, but he would accept the result. Jeonghan squeezed Soonyoung’s hand back.

“Thank you. You always know what to say.”

They finally headed inside, and waited in the lobby until they were escorted in. Soonyoung watched Jeonghan scan the room for _him_ , then sag with relief— or disappointment— when he couldn’t find him. The judge was settling in his seat, eyeing the two of them as they stepped up to the defense bench. He nodded at them, and Soonyoung nodded back. He’d had this judge before, and the familiarity brought a bit of comfort.

And then the air escaped from Jeonghan’s lungs beside him, the room seemed to get a few degrees colder, and a man in a deadly sharp suit stepped up behind the prosecutor's bench, and turned his gaze on them. Jeonghan was whisper quiet beside him, but Soonyoung heard exactly what he said.

“Boo Seungkwan…”


End file.
